


A Gift from Balthazar

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel is the School Heartthrob, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Ships It, First Meetings, Fluff, Freshman Sam, Humor, Inspired by Music, M/M, Musician Dean, New Kid Castiel, Serenade, Singer Dean, Some angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Young Sam Winchester, guitarist dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: "Well, he's dreamy. And super smart. He's not popular, granted he just got here last semester, but he's already sought after by almost every girl, from Amara Shurley to Meg Masters—it really pisses off the Sporty Dicks. Oh, and he's not into jock straps, but he's definitely into dudes."  Charlie pauses, gauging Dean's reaction. She must see a tinge of worry and fluster in the lump in his throat, which is, by the mischievous smirk on her face, exactly what she's been trying to stir into her cauldron bubble. "Don't worry: I have the perfect song in mind."





	

**Author's Note:**

> With Valentine's Day in a little over a month, I figured why not.
> 
> First fic of 2017! I'm not big into the whole "firsts", but writing has and always will be an important thing in my life. Hopefully that reflects in any fic of mine you happen to stumble across, from this one to the ones way back in 2015.
> 
> Also, disclaimer: I know nothing about cars. You'll see that I gave credit where credit is due in the fic itself when it comes to specs. It's the same article, even though it's separated into two links. It's really well-done, and even discusses small details like the cup holders.
> 
> Other than that, and a few good tunes up for your listening, onward, my Wayward Son!

A Gift from Balthazar 

_A/N: Inspired by[this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02lW6TpjVJk) Glee performance—with a twist, and of course, the song by A Rocket to the Moon, “Baby Blue Eyes”._

Dean’s not popular like Andrew Clark or has earned a reputation as John Bender.

Rather, he’s a guy with a guitar and a voice, who lends both talents to Lawrence High’s Annual Valentine's Week Sing-A-Gram—a week-long drive that, for $5, helps underprivileged families fund lunch meals for their kids, _and_ buys one lucky student from another a section of a choice ballad performed by yours truly.

The ballads typically range from "Shape of My Heart" by the Backstreet Boys to "All of Me" by John Legend, the latter which Dean's pretty sure he's heard in similar variation before, but that's not in his time nor business to really question. It's a major time-crunch to learn every requested song on top of existing schoolwork. If it's a standard four-chord progression, Dean's happy.

"This just says 'Anything except Celine Dion'," Dean says in one of the open practice rooms, green eyes furrowed as he holds up the paper. “Guy’s quite the romantic.”

Charlie plucks the paper from Dean's hand easier than a harpist playing... well, _anything_ in the Celine Dion collection, and squints—a byproduct of too many nights illuminated by Moondoor. "Well, I guess you've got free range then," she says, as if Dean wasn't a younger, less hat-haired Sherlock Holmes deducing that himself.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Any _suggestions_?"

"Hey, you're the one who volunteers his creativity; you should be a wiz at this stuff."

"I sing songs that're written by _other_ artists: I'm pretty sure creativity has been dead for a while."

Charlie's face relaxes into an easy smile as she ruffles Dean’s caramel hair. This time of year isn't easy on her, Dean knows. Charlie puts on a brave face, but beyond that is a twelve-year-old girl who lost her parents to a fatal car crash. Dean figures charity helps her compensate for the guilt, going on his experience losing his mom at a much younger age, but again, it's neither his time nor business.

"Who's it for?" she asks, mostly to herself as she flips the makeshift paper heart.

"Some guy named—”

"Castiel." Charlie's smile is a full-blown Cheshire now. Dean certainly feels like he's thrown into Wonderland, the way she's laughing and shaking her head like she has one too many cups of "tea" in her system. She holds up the tiny paper. “Believe me, it’s only day one, but this’ll be one of dozens of songs he gets sung before the end of the week.”

"Care to elaborate?" Dean asks, arms open, careful not to sway the Gibson on his lap. "Who's Cas-tee-yell?"

Charlie bites her lip to keep from smiling. "Okay, I promise I'm still a lesbian."

"And I'm still in love with River _and_ Summer Phoenix, what's your point?"

"I need to put a disclaimer."

"Charlie, an hour ago I saw you and Gilda sucking face on the bleachers."

Charlie crosses her arms with a huff. "One does not simply suck face with Gilda Arkhmoor. Do you know how many ranks I had to break on Moondoor just to impress her?"

"Charlie, you're the Queen."

"What, a queen can't play hard to get?"

"Charlie," Dean sighs, "who is this guy?"

"Well, he's dreamy. And super smart. He's not popular, granted he just got here last semester, but he's already sought after by almost every girl, from Amara Shurley to Meg Masters—it really pisses off the Sporty Dicks. Oh, and he's not into jock straps, but he's _definitely_ into dudes."  Charlie pauses, gauging Dean's reaction. She must see a tinge of worry and fluster in the lump in his throat, which is, by the mischievous smirk on her face, exactly what she's been trying to stir into her cauldron bubble. "Don't worry: I have the _perfect_ song in mind."

***

“She’s trying to put me into the ground, Sam—why are you laughing?”

“ _What’re you—I’m not! I’m just clearing my throat, ahem. It’s just really cold up here.”_

Dean turns the phone away from his ear to roll his eyes, and then opts for a comeback: “Sam, how many times have I told you to keep your head out of the—oh wait, you can’t help it.”

 _“Remind me again how you’re the older brother and_ I’m _the more mature one?”_

“More mature?” Dean scoffs. “Sam, two days ago, you smeared cooked oatmeal all over my pillow.”

“ _After_ you _spray-painted a dick on my car!”_

“Someone had to grow you a pair.”

“ _Dean, a Charger STR8 is a pretty sweet car,”_ Sam says, going onto say: “ _It_ _gets[425 hp, 6,600 rpms, ](http://www.topspeed.com/cars/dodge/2010-dodge-charger-ar84504.html)_[and _has a 6.1-liter HEMI V8 engine._](http://www.topspeed.com/cars/dodge/2010-dodge-charger-ar84504.html)"

Dean’s eyes widen. Good thing Sam’s at his forensics competition in North Dakota, because Dean would never allow him the satisfaction of knowing he’s impressed Dean in any way.

“Not bad,” he settles for.

“ _Not to mention the LED lighting system—even the cup holders have them.“_

“And now you’re back to zero.”

There’s a pause, then Sam says: “ _I’m sure it’ll be fine, Dean. What’s the big deal, anyway? You do this every year.”_

“I don’t know, it just seems… personal, you know?” Dean sighs, because he sounds like such a lame ass. What _is_ the big deal? It’s not like he knows this Castiel guy anyway. But it still somehow feels, “It’s like _I’m_ the one serenading him, cos the guy who likes him is… how do you describe someone too lazy to be a romantic?”

Sam’s the wordsmith in the family, so Dean usually refers to him when he’s lost for words.

“ _An asshole_ ,” Sam scoffs, to which Dean smiles. God, he misses that kid. ” _Look, you said it yourself: the guy’s obviously not putting much effort into swooning Cas, so just make him look like he is: improvise. Besides, you said Charlie gave you the song material, so what more do you need?”_

“Wait, _you_ know him?”

“ _What?”_

”You called him Cas.”

“ _Of course I know Cas,”_ Sam replies with a laugh, like Dean’s the only one in the whole school out on the joke. _“He’s in the Environmental Club on campus. Really nice guy for an upperclassman—super creative too. None of us would’ve ever thought of the idea to host a literal live stream.”_

Dean makes a bed with his arms over his guitar and drops his head there. “I’m so screwed.”

***

By the time Dean walks out of the theatre building and into the open café, he has a semi-decent picture of the boy he’s supposed to help sweep off his feet, collected from various students over the past couple of days:

“Blue eyes—I’m talking, like, _really_ blue. Imagine the ocean in someone’s eyes. You decide whether you sink or swim in them.”

“Tall-ish. Messy hair. Brown, I guess. I don’t know. I was too busy looking at his chest when he played Puck in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream._ Talk about a show.”

“His voice is a thing of beauty. Raspy, but deep.”

“That jawline can cut through your deepest inhibitions.”

“His lips the softest things you’ll ever kiss. It’s like sinking into a pillow.”

“Forget what everyone else has told you: His smile is his stand-out feature. He smiles a lot, because he’s just a really nice guy. Few have made it possible, but if you can get him to _really_ smile… that’s the jackpot.”

Dean steels himself against the wall scarcely dividing him from the rest of the school. You can do this, he tells himself, even though he’s never really been good with self-assurance. Then, he braves a glance to the tables. Charlie says he should be at his usual table, the one nearest to the science building, surrounded by a couple of his friends, who Dean knows as Gadreel and Nora, so he’s not hard to spot, and yeapp, even from a distance, he practically glows.

Before he can trip over his own breath, Dean plunges forward, guitar secure to his back as he approaches his table. Of course, once he gets there, everyone at the adjacent tables are already turning their heads, awaiting to hear what song Dean’s going to churn out for Cas, who apparently doesn’t know that he’s hot shit around school, because he has to have someone else nudge his shoulder to turn around and see Dean.

Modest and hot, just Dean’s luck.

“H-hi,” Dean stammers, “I’m, uh… I’m Dean. I’m delivering a Sing-A-Gram for Cas.”

Cas looks around, met by only eager faces, then back at Dean. If Dean wasn’t so nervous himself, he would’ve detected a hint of nervousness in Cas, too: “I, um… yeah, that’s me,” he says, laughing a little.

“Good, cool,” Dean says, allowing a small smile as he swings his guitar around. “Alright, I’ll get to it then.”

After the first rocky verse—which Dean definitely couldn’t recite back if anyone asked—he chances a glance at the person he’s singing to, and takes the blush on Cas’s face as a good sign. Most people get red in circumstances like these, and that thought relaxes Dean’s intensity on the chords.

“Baby, baby blue eyes,  
Stay with me by my side;  
'Til the mornin', through the night.  
Well baby,  
Stand here, holdin' my sides,  
Close your baby blue eyes;  
Every moment feels right.  
And I may feel like a fool…”

Dean stops playing to lend out his hand to Cas, who stares at Dean for a whole few seconds before standing up. Dean’s not even sure what he's doing until he does it, but he figures, hey, why not get the guy’s $5’s worth as he clasps their hands together and spins Cas around. The crowd hoots and hollers as a smile etches onto Cas’s face before Dean picks up with one final, ringing chord:

“But I'm the only one, dancin' with you.”

Dean can’t help the full-blown smile that crosses his face because of the crowd that roars to seemingly no end.

That, and Dean manages to get the same reaction out of Cas. Jackpot, indeed.

"Umm, that's from Balthazar,” he laughs breathlessly.

Cas just shakes his head, smile turning slightly wry as he says, “No, it’s not.” Dean tilts his head to the side, but before he can ask, he feels a pair of the softest lips on his cheek. It’s quick, but warm, just as the words that follow are against his ear: “Thank you, Dean.”

Yeah, Dean thinks as he heads to fourth period, he loves his job.

 

 

The next Valentine’s Day is their one-year anniversary that the two of them spend in the comfort of their apartment, with Cas showing off his own newly fangled guitar skills by singing "Green Eyes” by Coldplay.

 


End file.
